


Like Lightning

by youkokurama



Category: British Actor RPF, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) RPF, X-Men: First Class (2011) RPF, mcfassy - Fandom
Genre: Community: mcfassy, First Kiss, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, M/M, Sleepovers, Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 21:22:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2443577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youkokurama/pseuds/youkokurama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael's not afraid of anything, James discovers, except when he actually is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Lightning

James must admit --- he really liked sleeping over at Michael's apartment.

Though Michael himself was decidedly embarrassed about his modest bachelor pad with its apparent combination of drabness and disarray, James thought that its rawness was its charm --- as much as he loved people, characters, and books, he loved how reflective everything in Michael's apartment was to the man himself. He could actually spend hours studying everything he sees and spot facets of the Irish-German's personality until Michael complains that he was, in fact, right there infront of him trying to play as a good host, which makes James laugh.

So even when Michael sheepishly hurries to push to an unobtrusive corner that full open clothes rack or those suitcases or boxes of stuff he yet has to unpack or goes out to fill his often-nearly-bare fridge or cabinets with any thing they may need whenever James drops by and unexpectedly stays in, James still feels the comfort and the honesty. This is Michael's sanctuary, his home away from home regardless how many times he downplays it as just some temporary place to stay in here in London, and maybe it's just him but James feels it's like his sanctuary too. He feels welcomed and sheltered, amidst the small space and the guitars at one side and the piles of scripts at various surfaces.

He knows what it's like to be in a bigger house that does not feel like a home. So Michael's place was a surprisingly soothing haven comparable to his own.

That sometimes he can't help but get a sudden burst of inspiration to cook something even when they just had a late takeout dinner an hour earlier, while lying on his designated sofa (his sleeping area because it was just so comfortable, despite Michael's insistence to take the bed instead every time), which he is usually inclined to do whenever he is back at his own place. It may have been inspired by the sudden storm outside decidedly drenching everything not inside with a vengeance.

Some macaroni milk soup for midnight snack it is, he decided, as he rummaged through the kitchen's overhead cabinet, before suddenly remembering that with Michael's frequent lack of time to go grocery shopping he may not even have pasta around.

So he was a bit surprised that he found a bag of macaroni at one corner, but even when looking through the fridge he found no milk.

He padded over to Michael's room, knowing that around this time he's still awake, probably reading through a script or researching for his role. He was kind of surprised when he peeked in and saw a big lump of Michael completely under a blanket in a darkened room, with a thick pad of script at the edge of the bed. Already asleep?

"Michael?" he called out once, hesitantly. Lightning cracked and thunder boomed shortly, and he waits for a couple of seconds before pulling back and starting to think he may just try going _aglio et olio_ with the macaroni instead.

"Yeah?" Michael's voice floated over causing him to look back, and see his co-star lifting himself out of the blankets and running a hand through his currently bed-mussed short hair. Lightning struck again, lighting them both up temporarily.

"Just wondering if you're keeping some milk somewhere?" The following thunder almost drowned out his voice.

"Oh, sorry. I may have run out if it already. Remind me to put that in the grocery list tomorrow." Lightning streaked through the sky following the thunder a bit too fast this time.

As the thunder boomed, that's when he realized it.

"Hey, you ok?" James walked closer to the bed, taking the edge before Michael to sit down and look more closely at him. Michael blinks at him, a bit surprised at the question.

"I am? Why, is there something wrong?"

Lightning struck again, and there's no mistaking now that slight jump in Michael's frame at this short distance.

"You're afraid of lightning," he said slowly in realization, almost sounding like in awe, and a teasing grin starting to spread through his face.

"I'm not!" It was interjected by that small involuntary cringe again when lightning lit up the room once more.

He started chuckling, ready to blow into a full blown laugh as he saw Michael start to smile back that big silly toothy grin of his. But somehow he saw some strain at the corner of those steel gray blue eyes even at the slight darkness, and he quickly bit the inner edge of his cheek and lip to skewer even his urge to dissolve to giggles.

"Lie back down," he said, as he tries to will his amusement to ebb, adjusting over the edge of the bed to stretch out his legs over the spread and prop his back to the wall at the head of the bed beside Michael's pillow.

"Are you patronising me?" Michael deadpanned, even as he helped to give James more space by reaching out that long limb of an arm of his to pick up the big wad of script at the edge on the way of James' legs, and toss it over to the small side table at James' side.

"No, no! Jeez, mate, just lie back down, will you? Easier to talk this way."

Michael reluctantly stretches down over his own side of the small bed, looking up at James as he sinks back his head on the pillow. He tries to prop his head up with his arm so he wouldn't strain his eyes, but James pushes the side of his head back down. "No, stay down."

Michael lifts slightly to fold his pillow in half, in stubborness, to fluff it up and give more support for his head and neck to look up at James. Lightning lights up the room again, and James' nearest hand catches the slight quiver of Michael's shoulder at that, as almost immediately he presses down slightly at the muscle just beside his neck.

"More comfy lying down, right?" James declares, as he presses down again, almost squeezing, as the thunder sounded. He wished he could do that on the other shoulder too, but Michael was stubbornly lying on his side, and he didn't know what to say to the other to make him completely lie on his back without making him feel awkward of their proximity.

"Are you trying to give me a massage or something? Because I can roll over, you know."

"Do you want to?" James asks. He had to ask it, somehow.

"No, this is fine," Michael replies quietly, offering a quick glance up at James as if to reassure him he's OK this way, before fixing his eyes on some random spot beyond.

The lightning continues with its intermttent symphony with thunder on the walls of Michael's room, coupled with the rain and wind starting to howl outside. The muscle under James' hand still twitches under every flash of light, but it's good it's not getting any worse.

"Just making you relax, you know," James offers belatedly, just to break the silence.

"I'm not ---"

"You're not afraid of thunder and lightning, I know."

He feels Michael take a deep breath. "Thunder's ok, you know," he says finally. "Because it just follows. The fake lightning effects are just ok when I'm shooting, but when it's like this I just..." He shrugs slightly. "I dunno."

"Because this is natural. And unpredictable," James says, like it's all the answer there is in the world. Michael looks up at him. "I guess you don't like surprises then?"

"No, surprises are ok. Anything sudden is ok. And I think you're right." Michael seems to think it over for a moment, closing his eyes briefly at the same time as lightning struck again. Only a little cringe this time. Then he said slowly, "Or maybe it's my height."

James raises an eyebrow at that as he looks down at his friend, whose face is almost obscured by his arm from his vantage point. Not that he needed to see Michael's expression anyway --- because even earlier, his face is pretty good at hiding what his body cannot. "What does your height have to do with anything?"

"Because I'm tall?" James' eyebrow must have went even higher, so Michael clarified, "I keep hearing these people getting struck by lightning when I was younger, so when I suddenly had my growth spurt about around the same time as... you know, my fat years..."

"I'm really sorry." James still felt very much bad up to now for laughing at that fact about Michael infront of the general public, it felt so mean even back then in recording even if eventually Michael laughed along with him. So even if he had apologized profusely and still frequently to Michael about it and even if Michael says there's no need to apologize (or just accepts it to quiet James down or else he'd never stop), whenever he remembers or it's mentioned he still apologizes.

That is what made him focus even more on even the smallest expression Michael tries to hide, a level of attention even more than he gave while working back with him at _First Class_. Because Michael deserves that, and more. And before Michael could dismiss his apology again, he says, "So let me guess... you think you're some kind of a walking lightning rod, going to be struck by lightning at any time."

"Yes? Maybe?" He looks at James' face, kind of expecting with a slowly sinking feeling that James is going to follow up with a dick joke pertaining to, well, that certain part of his from _Shame_. But nothing prepared him for that hard slap he got at his bicep instead. "Ow! What was that for?!"

"Are you saying I'm _that_ short??" James at that moment really looked threatening and livid.

"I'm not even thinking anything remotely near to that, I swear! And besides, you're not that short as you think."

James seemed to calm at that, his hand going back to that area on his shoulder. That he can't help but jab a bit, "Or is that why you're looking for milk for earlier?"

This earns him another slap at his arm, but this was less violent than before, and he could see James looking down at him with mirth. "I wanted to make us some macaroni soup for midnight snack, you lug."

"Oh you James McAvoy, you know how much I love you," he said fervently, as it was no secret James was an awesome cook even with the simplest of dishes, and James laughed at that.

"It's definitely dangerous being out when there's lightning anyway," James mused after his laughter calmed down, "no matter if you're tall or short, you can still get fried."

The lightning painted his walls again, and Michael's body still cringed slightly despite the reassuring squeeze on his shoulder and his effort to just stay still. "...This is so embarrassing. Thanks, though."

"For what?" James looked at him funny. "I don't think I'm doing enough anyway."

"No, you're doing fine." He consciously managed to not jump too much at the next lightning strike, and wanted to congratulate himself. It was ridiculous, really, his body's reaction --- he knew he was deep into the walls of his apartment, but somehow his mind wouldn't just connect with his body, like it was still expecting the flash would still burst through his windowpane and get him. "...Maybe I should just turn the lights on so I wouldn't see it flash."

"If you do that you wouldn't be able to sleep."

"Aren't you getting tired in that position though?"

"Nah, I'm actually comfy," James said in that Scottish drawl of his, bounced a little on the bed for emphasis. "Maybe I should take up on the offer to take your bed next time."

"Good." He can't help but feel that small pleased curl in his stomach over that. Sometimes he thinks James is too self-sacrificing for his own good, and he can't help but be worried. "...You know, maybe I should just look at you. There's not much difference anyway."

"What?"

"Your eyes. They're actually the color of lightning. And they even glow in the dark! How is that even possible."

James remembered something. He looks amused again. "Close your eyes."

Michael wanted to ask why, but closed his eyes anyway to further reassure his friend.

For a few seconds he just heard silence and thunderclaps. He felt the bed shift slightly, and it was a half-second before his heart started pounding from some delayed instinct and he felt soft warmth press gently at the corner of his lip.

His eyes flew open, meeting those eyes he had just likened to lightning. James still had his usual smile, but those eyes were trying their best not to waver from his, and neither look too uncertain nor too confident.

Michael unconsciously licked his lip. "Did you just..."

"Yes..?" It didn't sound either as a question or an answer to his ears. The lightning clapped again, and it's more like he squeezed Michael's shoulder out of recently formed habit than him being able to think of anything else right now.

Michael himself only had a little tremor compared to before, but he can't help but think that tremor has a mix of something else. "They say that lightning doesn't strike twice," he finds himself saying.

"Yes...?" James was confused now.

Michael's hand curls into the shirtsleeve of James' hand squeezing his shoulder, and pulling at that to both hoist himself up and drag James down to him he closes the final distance to slide his mouth against the Scot's.

It felt like home. For both of them.

Soon James was pressing Michael back down the pillow, tasting his fill of Michael's lips as Michael does the same. Lightning and ozone flashed into the room, but Michael certainly wasn't able to sense it anymore, with his eyes closed and James' shadow further obscuring what little sudden light sneaks over his eyelids.

They both have to break away from each other as their lungs were already screaming for air, and James laughs breathlessly as he looks down at his friend grinning up at him. "You were saying something profound about lightning?"

Michael just realized that James' hands were gently framing the sides of his eyes like loose makeshift blinders, like shielding him from any lightning flash that would make him jump again, letting Michael see only him and the intermittent light play at his face. Michael's heart can't help but flutter at that, and studying his now lover decided his eyes were much brighter than any flashing light.

"I may be thinking about macaroni. I dunno."

James chuckles again, as Michael's hand tangles into the loose growing curls of his hair and was already reeling him back down, "I think you hinted we'll have that tomorrow."

"Yeah. But for now..."

**Author's Note:**

> This story's got to be the fastest I've ever wrote. Wrote overnight and major edit the whole next day. Just punctuation stuff until this day I finally posted it. I'm sorry for the mistakes... I don't have a beta and I don't know how betas work ^^;.
> 
> I just love the interaction between these two. The apartment is inspired by that June 2012 GQ article.


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